The sand is soft. - Printable Version

You are my sunshine
my only sunshine

Birth.

To some, a wondrous occasion for the whole family. To others, just another step in mass-producing valkhounds. But to Simon (the Second) it was the most special birthday of all. For today was his.

The serpent child woke up in a crystalline cage. Warm, dark fluid surrounded him. He breathed in hesitantly, and it trickled into his lungs. Not good. He had to find air. What is air, one may ask? Simon didn't know, but it certainly wasn't in here.

The creature wriggled blindly, smacking his coiled body against the sides of the chrysalis. Thump, thump. Nothing worked. By accident, he lashed out his pointed beak-horn and-- look! It cracked! Golden light shone through the seams of his stone. He gave one last shove at that holy sight-- and collapsed onto sandy ground.

Honey-colored paws touched earth for the first time. Crystalline eyes opened wide and clean air filled his lungs. The landscape was like nothing else, though he hadn't experienced anything else to argue otherwise. A flat expanse of shimmering sand that opened up before him, warmed by the early cave-light of morning. Over here was a dead bush, over there a strange, twisted column that shot into the air, with another further in the distance. He cocked his head towards them, curious-- and for the first time, walked.

It was more of a slithering motion than anything, his small body having the poise of a newborn fawn as he made it to the torch. Partway there he perked his head at something interesting sticking out of the haze. The skeleton of a creature (he figured it looked a bit like himself), jaws bared and great claw marks going down its sides. An empty abscess gaped where its stone might've been. He decided he liked it.

Simon continued his weak crawl forwards, goalpost moved to the curious-looking remains. There, he had his first, proper thought:

'The sand is soft.'

You make me happy
when skies are gray

It was as if the new child were blessed.

Not a single face-rending Eyehook, not one hook-tailed and hungry Scorpion--no hypnotic Spiders in sight; and the weather was clear. The wind was pleasant enough, with shade promised just ahead, at the mouth of the Crucible--and there was water in there, too. For now, Hydra opened and offered only its comforts to Simon II, without a single hint of the barbed deaths that could follow.

Simon II is safe until the end of the thread, or for one in-character day, whichever comes first.

By each and every squirming tentacle in Davy Jones' beard! It sure had been hot lately! This morning, though, was pleasant enough. Such days were a rarity, and Captain wanted to spend it doing something. Not huddling away in the shade as he often did during the day, or splashing around in the toxic, smelly mud. He already had plenty of opportunities to do those things.

So today, why not try... going dune-gazing? Well, it was the best idea he'd come up with so far! And to be fair, the dunes weren't just boring sandy dunes, murderously hot with a chance of being devoured by a worm. Just because they were most of the time didn't mean they couldn't be pretty at times like this, when the morning orb-light was not yet so strong and cast each mound of sand in honeyed light.

Captain was content to stand there, watching this peaceful scene, until he caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye. He scrambled to get back, lowering his horns to point at whatever it was--a sand worm? A hypnotic spider?

Neither, as it turned out. It was a small creature, caramel and copper with soft feathered wings. They were also kind of pretty; maybe he should go closer to take a look? He paused, reflecting on his thoughts to make sure this wasn't some new kind of hypnosis. But... if he was capable of suspecting, then it probably wasn't, right?

"YARR, matey!" he called, wading through the dunes to come a few steps closer. "Can you talk? Or arrrre you here to eat me?" He snorted and tossed his horns, as if to imply that the latter would not be a good idea.

You are my sunshine
my only sunshine

Quiet.

Quiet no more.

The serpent turned around, slightly spooked into lifting his wings, at the sudden sound of talking. He never heard speech before. It sounded... strange. Its owner was some big beast with dark hide and a large, reddish thing coming from its side. To the average child this would've been scary; to him, he was curious.

"Y-Yaer," He echoed, slithering slightly closer to Captain. ma... matee?" Oh, this was fun. "Matee!" He flung his wings into the air, scattering sand particles everywhere. His eyes locked with the Captain's. "Y... You... You matee?"

Content with his vocal practice, the thing slithered up to him, curling around one of his hooves with a weird, snake-y purr. There was obviously no fear coming from him. Why should he? Everything was safe right now.

You make me happy
when skies are gray